


Excremental Changes

by yourdykeinshiningarmor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, For Science!, Gen, One Shot, Sherlock Experiments on John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourdykeinshiningarmor/pseuds/yourdykeinshiningarmor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides to experiment on John... again... and apparently for science isn't a valid reason.</p><p> </p><p>**warning: this is a crack fic inspired by a chat about experiments, bodily functions, and really bad (you might say shitty) puns. Nothing gets on anyone and nothing gross really happens but human excrement is talked about and, well, not everyone is up to talking about that. Just wanted to give everyone a fair warning. If that doesn't bother you, read on and I hope you enjoy. FOR SCIENCE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excremental Changes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SincerelyChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyChaos/gifts).



> Thanks to the folks in the AD chat for this crap-tastic idea and to Chaos for giving me all the shitty encouragement!

John was scrolling through the Tumblr feed on his mobile. He was done but something kept pulling his attention and drawing out the time he was here. The porcelain under his thighs was now warm from his body heat and he knew Sherlock would start to notice his absence. The prat had a way of noticing the weirdest things about John, like how long he was in the shower (and what that said about his activities there) and, lately, how long he was staying in the bathroom.

He sighed and turned the screen off, setting his mobile on the counter, while he finished up. He was just doing up the flies on his trousers when Sherlock burst into the bathroom. He jumped; although, he should be used to it by now, this being the fourth time this week alone that Sherlock had burst in on him but the detective had been doing it more often over the last month.

“John, I require your assistance,” Sherlock said as his eyes flitted over the room, resting briefly on the contents of the toilet before moving on. 

“And you couldn't wait until I came out?” he asked angrily, quickly closing the lid and hitting the handle. He ignored Sherlock (and his silent stares) as he washed his hands, taking an extra long time to ensure they were dry. Only then did he turn back to Sherlock. “Now, what is it that you need?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John before turning and leaving the room. “Thank you! That was all I needed,” he called over his shoulder as he returned to his microscope.

John took a moment to close his eyes, breathe, and count to ten. When he emerged, he stopped in the doorway. “Then  _ why _ did you feel the need to burst in on me? Surely another thirty seconds wouldn't have made a difference?”

“On the contrary, timing is critical to many of my experiments.” Sherlock switched out the slide on the stage as he continued. “If I’d waited, I would have lost valuable data. As always, John, you provide me with exactly what I need, exactly when I need it.”

John took another breath to calm his nerves. He knew arguing would be fruitless; besides, when had Sherlock ever respected personal boundaries.

“Oh, there is a new restaurant I wanted to try. The menu is on the counter. We can go out to eat or get it as takeaway. Whichever you’d prefer.” Sherlock switched out the slide again.

As John wandered over to said menu, he narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. He had willingly eaten almost every night this week, really more reliably the past month, and even suggested most of the places they went to eat or what John made at home. This week it seemed that they weren't eating their typical fare of chinese takeaway or Angelo’s either, but places that specialized in fresh food and specific dietary needs. He glanced down at the menu had his suspicions were confirmed. This place was entirely gluten-free and had many other specific ingredient-free options as well. He glanced over it; he’d actually been surprised that he enjoyed many of the meals he’d tried but he couldn't help wonder at the sudden change in Sherlock’s eating habits. He glanced up at the man in question and suddenly a thought came into his head.

“Has all this been for a bloody experiment?” John asked, slightly annoyed.

“Hmm,” was Sherlock’s only response. Another slide went onto the stage.

“What could you possibly be experimenting on by choosing what we are eating each night?” He stepped up to the table and placed his hands flat on it, leaning in towards Sherlock. A peculiar odor met his nose but it was faint and he couldn't quite place it.

“Several things.”

John waited, hoping Sherlock would expand on his not doubt purposefully vague statement but none was forthcoming. He dropped his head and looked at the slides littering the table. Many were old and dry from the last several days (Sherlock really was horrible about cleaning up but John learned long ago not to touch anything unless it was a hazard or had developed language skills) but there were several fresh ones mixed in as well. He cocked his head as looked a bit closer, eyes more focused on the slides. The fresh ones looked remarkably similar to… _ oh _ . It was like a lock clicked open in his brain.

“Are those  _ fecal _ smears?” he asked, pushing away from the table.

“Yes.” Sherlock offered no further explanation.

“Yes? That’s all?” John asked incredulously. “You literally have our kitchen table covered in shit and all you say is 'yes'? What kind of experiment is this?”

Sherlock sighed as he looked up at John. “Examining the effects of dietary modulation on human excrement, both on a macro and micro scale, to see if there are any particular benefits of one diet over another to those without any dietary needs or restrictions.”

John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I suppose the ‘macro’ part involves you barging into the loo to get a glance at my ‘excrement’?”

“Obviously. I predicted, accurately I see, that you would not willingly agree.The majority of my data is personally acquired but I wanted a few additional data points to corroborate my findings. Although an ‘n’ of two still isn't highly scientific. Really it’s more like an ‘n’ of one point one since I get very little information from a quick visualization. I have no additional data in regards to the volume or the amount of force needed to expel it. Consistency, urgency, and frequency are also data points I lack, not to mention the deficiency in the actual examination of the fec—”

“Sherlock!” John stared at him. “Are you really doing this?”

“Absolutely, John. The effects of diet are critical in many cases. I was considering having Molly run a nutrient analysis to assess the digestibility of the meals as well.”

“No. Absolutely not! Under no circumstances are going to give Molly containers of our excrement to experiment on for you! That poor girl has to deal with enough from you already.”

Sherlock perked up at John’s tirade, suddenly very excited.

John frowned, thinking over what he had just said and realizing his error.

“No, no.” John frantically shook his head. “No, Sherlock.”

“But you said ‘our excrement’. Does that mean you will fully join my study?” Sherlock had stood up and had his hands clasped against his chest, almost prayer-like. The look in his face was so hopeful.

John blinked slowly as he let out a big sigh. He  _ knew _ he was being manipulated, but there were times he just couldn't say no to the berk. Didn't mean he couldn't set up some damage control though.

“Fine, but on two conditions.”

Sherlock nodded.

“First, you will limit this study to your personal files as I don’t need my bowel habits posted all over the internet, and you will limit the data collection to spreadsheets, questionnaires, and personal investigations. I will not tolerate photos, videos, or any other visual data collection except on what I physically give to you. And you will  _ not _ pawn this onto anyone else.” He gave Sherlock a serious look, one that brokered no arguments.

“John,” Sherlock started, ignoring the glare. "That is already three conditions.”

John ignored Sherlock as he continued. “Second, you will move this experiment to the basement, ensure that collection and sampling is done as safely as possible, and then clean and sterilize the whole bloody kitchen!”

“But Jawn,” Sherlock whined.

“No,” John held out his hand to stop Sherlock’s argument. “I don't care that you hate cleaning, I’d rather not treat either one of us for e-coli.”

Sherlock flopped onto his stool and proceeded to pout.

John just shook his head and smiled. “I realize that having to clean is a bit shitty, but you should have thought of that before starting another crappy experiment.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John.

“Oh, don't look at me like that. If I’m doing this, I’m going to have some fun with it! And if there are some excremental changes to my word choices…” John just shrugged instead of finishing his sentence, silently striding out of the room as Sherlock continued to stare. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think that this is the shit, that it's a piece of shit, or if there are crappy errors, please feel free to let me know with kudos, comments, or at my [Tumblr](http://yourdykeinshiningarmor.tumblr.com/).


End file.
